Tagging along
by darkbrotherhoodforever
Summary: "I'm here to provide the support, heal, sometimes I sing" Her hands held her lute proudly. A smirk crossed his face slowly, hands moving under her chin lightly as silver irises watched him curiously. . Ylva the bard, Oren the hire, and an undead companion. Adventure and drama, some unfunny jokes and the romance. Don't fall in love with the undead.
1. Chapter 1

This is the first short snippet from my story, it's more of an excerpt, but the future chapters will be longer than this. Anyways thanks for taking a look guys!  
-

"Sharp winds sliced through the mountain caps, animals retreated from the harsh snowstorm into their homes. The trees bend slightly with the winds constant shoving, snow falling off their branches and becoming one with the white powder that already existed below. No light came from the sky, the clouds hung heavy and thick, blocking any form of light to slip through. A torch flickered between the tree trunks, the flame dancing back and forth as a figure made their way through the snowy woods. They were trailed by a small figure, who struggled with walking through the deep snow. There was a worn trail in the snow from where they had come, though the storm threatened to fill it back in, removing any easy tracking.

"The smaller figure pushed ahead a little ways and reached out grabbing onto the others arm and yanking slightly. Their hand pointing towards an overhang in the rock ahead of them. A quick nod from the taller as they strode through the snow to the alcove. The overhang had kept most of the snow out of its shelter, though some still lingered here and there as the wind sent small flurries in. The smaller walked to the thinnest section of snow and rubbed their boot back and forth a few times to clear and area before sitting down and taking their pack off their back. The snaps made a soft click as the bag was opened and some kindling was dug out and placed in the brushed off ground. A small huff came from her as she reached up and pulled the fur lined hood down, her breath coming out in the little white cloud.

"How many pieces of firewood did you have left?" she asked glancing towards the taller who had made their way over to her.

"three and a half of the log from yesterday" The deeper voice answered her.

A thump on the ground followed the larger pack, hands moving to unstrap the logs that were tied to it. She watched momentarily before looking back at the kindling and casting a simple flame spell to get the fire started. Only once it seemed to be burning adequately did she motion for the other to put the logs on the fire.

"We will need to gather more tomorrow if the storm lets up" The taller said as he took a seat next to the girl. He reached up, lifting the battered iron helmet and setting it aside. Long dark strands of hair were tied up with a worn piece of leather, keeping it tidy during travel. "Any idea on if this will be gone by tomorrow morning?" He asked barely looking at his traveling companion as he placed his hands over the fire to dry out the soaked fabric.

"It's hard to tell, being this high into the hills, the storm could linger longer" her hands went back to her lap as she watched the flames flick about the small alcove, their light casting faint shadows that danced quickly with the occasional wind.

There was an annoyed sigh from the other as he took the gloves off and set the aside on the ground to dry quicker. His large frame shifted as he got more comfortable next to the fire.

"If it doesn't lift we will still be moving on tomorrow, we just won't be able to collect wood. Your fire spells will need to be ready for that" He grumbled looking at the fire and then towards the girl, her lack of response signaling her clear distraction. "Ylva."

She lifted her head and blinked a few times before nodding and readjusting her thick fur lined robes.

"Understood Oren, I won't let you go cold" Ylva looked at her pack and reached over to the side, wiping some of the melting snow from the front of her lute. The worn face of the instrument still had the faintest colors of blue and red where it hadn't been handled to the point of rubbing off.

"There should be a number of barrows scatted around up here though" She said looking out towards the white landscape, the falling snow simply blending into everything else around it.

"Might find some scatted bandit groups in them, I could gather some bounties from the jarl in Markarth" Oren said shoving his pack under his head and closing his eyes. "keep watch tonight, can't have hunger starved wolves stalking up on us while I sleep" He said gruffly, it was not an unusual tone and was answered with the silent nod from the girl.

Without another sound from him, the larger fell asleep, the soft crackling of the fire being the only thing now keeping the alcove from being entirely silent. Ylva sat there, following her duty as the watch, her eyes trained between the snowy world beyond and the warmth keeping them alive.


	2. Chapter 2

The mountains snowcaps echoed with the soft howls of the wolves, their cries for hunger resonating between the cold stones. Snow twirled around their muzzles as their paws sank into the snow below them, fur matted with wet snow. The barks and huffs of the creatures was followed by the snapping of jaws, a rabbits squeal was cut short as red flecked across the pure white snow. Ylva's eyes watched the snow as she brought her lute to herself, fingers running over the strings lightly as she listened to the wolves successful hunt not to far from them. She would have been able to deal with a few wolves without to much issue, though hunger starved wolves seemed to posses a ungodly power when pushed that far to the brink of survival. Her daggers moved lightly against her hip as she shifted her position, her lute coming up more to her chest.

The sounds of the hunt were slowly tuned out as a haunting melody floated from the alcove. Fingers plucked the strings lightly as the bard looked down at the fire, the song coming from the place she grew up. White eyes reflected the dancing orange lights as she played, the tune carried an eerie air to it, as if it was a death march for the animal that had died out in the world. Oren would not wake, she knew this, she had learned a while ago that though he complained about her song at times, he enjoyed it and never minded if she played while he slept. Her movements slowed slightly as she closed her eyes, retreating to her thoughts momentarily as she played a simply slower tune.

"The far hills and mountains, majestic and wild.."

The winds outside the alcove picked up, shoving larger bits of snow and debris into the small shelter they had made. Ylva shifted closer to the fire, her fur boots, slowly absorbing the heat from the flames.

"Have claimed more a man than a war or a blade"

Oren shifted slightly with the change in the winds, his large two handed sword, clunking against the rest of his armor as he moved. Why he didn't remove it from his person before sleeping, Ylva would never understand, and to bring it up would be met with some sarcasm to be sure.

"Venture alone or together, though the mountain cares not how many you bring"

She felt a slight shiver run down her spine, her tune hiccupping in turn at her response. She looked down at her lute, and ran her fingers down the strings against lightly.

"For one man or ten, neither can best the beast"

The female paused and lowered her lute into her lap quietly, looking over the remaining colors again. It had been a while since she sat down and tended to her instrument, she was amazed that it had even been holding up this far at this point.

"I'll get you fixed up when we get back down to Markarth. A fresh set of paint and some new strings might do you good." Giving a smile to the inanimate object she moved it back over to her pack and strapped it back into place. The winds had died down, leaving the soft whistling of the snow just glancing over the ground. Brushing her pant legs off, she slowly stood, looking at her sleeping hire to make sure he was still doing alright. A sharp sound came from behind her though, she turned on her heels, the ground under them grinding slightly from the dirt. It sounded like the softest creaking of old boards, her brow scrunched up in confusion as she took a small step towards where the sound had come from. The creaking turned into a grinding, stone on stone as the alcoves ground gave way to the hollowed ground underneath them.

A surprised scream left the girl as she felt herself falling, grit and dirt falling into her robes. Oren having been caught by surprised, having been woken by the event, seem completely flabbergasted. No sounds left him as his armor scraped the rocky walls, grinding of stone against metal followed them down. The pair hit the ground with a solid thud, dirt, debris, snow, and embers from the fire lay in a heap now in the hollow area.

Oren was the first to move, the drop felt so far, though he could look up and still see where they had come from. The hole down now dripped with water from the snow that had been melting near the fire. Armor dented and pain shooting through his body, Oren stood up, never one to let himself be hindered. The dark area was lit by only what the hole above them allowed. Ylva groaned softly as she sat up, pain raged in her side as she moved, hissing between closed teeth.

"Sounds like you're still alive" Oren said from his place as he observed the route they came in, trying to see if the hole provided any means of being able to climb back up. It seemed useless though, there were spaces to grab and the height wouldn't make it easy to scale even if he could make a reasonable stack of rocks. He folded his arms and grumbled quietly as he tried to look around. "Make yourself useful and cast me some light here"

Ylva gave a quick nod, though it wouldn't quite have mattered due to the current lighting. She raised a gloved hand, the small white light appearing and slowly flourishing like a flower in her hand. The small orb bounced from her hand and up into the air a ways, flooding the space with the blueish white light that swayed slightly.

A table surrounded with broken chairs sat to the side of the room, plates scatted across the table, some sat in small shards. The smell of rot was evident, though it was hard to make a distinction between the food that sat shriveled on the shelves, or the bodies that were no doubt in the dark spaces of the room. The woman stood up, reaching to her pack to fetch the few healing potions she had, though she should have tossed one to Oren first, she doubted that she would be able to force herself very far with the way her ribs were feeling. It wouldn't heal them fully, but it would make it more bearable. It tasted bitter and a little heavy on the stem of the plants rather than the flower itself, she would have to make sure to trim the plants better next time before brewing them. Taste aside, she was able to fully stand now, the pain more in the back of her mind now. Walking over some of the rubble she held out another potion to Oren, his larger hand took it, dwarfing the small glass container. He was quick to uncork it and drink it down, with no comment on the taste. He was not an alchemist himself, so he was not attuned to what potions should and shouldn't taste like, as long as they got the job done that was what he cared about.

"How many more of those do you got?" He asked handing her back the now empty container, she took it and stashed it away into her pack.

"two and a few raw herbs if it comes down to it" She sighed, she would have loved to of made more potions before the journey, but time had been limited with when Oren had wanted to move, and so here she was with limited supplies. She could only hope that her magicka might be able to hold out through this. The light in the air bounced lightly again as she turned to look around the room again.

"let's get moving, we can't go back up, so we are going to have to hope this place has a way out" Oren said stepping into the darkness as the light followed him, getting rid of the shadows quickly. The previous observation had been right, corpses laid against walls, some tucked up to themselves and others looking as if they had simply sat down to relax and died peacefully. They all shared the same appearance though, the sunken skin, lack of eyes or any sort of organic pieces from the looks of it, and what looked like the imprint of small trees along their bodies. Oren walked past them, towards a splintering wooden door. His hand pushed against the wooden door, though it only creaked slightly. The Nord didn't plan on letting the door get the best of him, he backed up a bit and lowered his shoulder, charging the door. It was a low echoing wham as he made contact, the wood split where it had been splintering away, the sound of bones breaking behind it gave away what may have been holding it shut. Ylva placed a hand over her mouth and shook her head as she followed over to where he was, he got the door open and all, but if he was reckless she wouldn't end up having enough healing to get him out alive. The larger brushed the edge of the shoulder off and used his boot to push to the door the rest of the way open and slip inside, the other slipped in through behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

Musty smelling hallways greeted the pair behind the door, the walls were cold, the yellowish toned stone holding up for many years under the cover of the mountain. Burned out torches lined the walls, their scones rusted and blacked from the soot of the flames that burned to close to the bottom. Oren scanned the scones as he reached up, wedging one of the partially intact ones from its place and looking at it.

"Here stick this on your pack in case we need more light" He didn't wait for a response from the bard as he let go of it, she clumsily caught it as he continued down the hall. It was quickly stuffed into the side of her bag as she followed as always. The halls seemed to fill with a cold air occasionally, not an oddity considering they were underground, but what made it strange was the way it seemed to come and go. The doors on every side of the hall threated to break open to some sort of danger, the way the looked so haphazardly shut, as if the person closing them had been in a state of panic when doing so. Ylva stopped and looked at one of the doors, Oren's footsteps drifting down the hall as she slowly pushed the door open. It was dark inside, only lit by the fading light of her orb in the hall.

She could make out the figures though, the bodies that hid in the corners together, arms wrapped around one another. Some who seemed to be hiding behind the furniture, and others who had collapsed right behind the door. Stepping inside she kneeled down to the body by the door, death was not something she a fan of seeing this close, but these bodies had all the same appearances as the ones in the room they had fallen into. The bard made a soft hm as she stood back up slowly, this place was reeking more and more of urgency, though if she relayed it to Oren she knew it would be brushed aside. If there was a challenge waiting ahead for them, then he would want to fight it head on. Darkness filled the room again, forcing Ylva to back out of it and hurriedly follow after Oren and her light.

Oren had come to a stop, hand under his chin as he looked at the room in front of them, whatever door had been there was gone. The tracks for an iron gate framed the entrance way, but the bits of metal were scattered across the floor now, out towards the room. There were large pillars near either wall, cages sat upon them, skeletons of varying positions sat in each one.

"Looks like a room for punishment" Oren said finally as he stepped inside, his iron boots stepping on something decaying with a scrunch. As if to make his point, he kicked a torn leather carrier that was strapped with various implements. Dark dried stains covered the tools and leather, assuring that no one would be able to say they hadn't been used in something cruel. The man walked towards the center of the room, looking up at all the cages, there were some suspended in the air behind the larger supported cages. It indeed was a torture chamber, though the figures in here were mostly skeletal, unlike the others who had still retained their skin for the years they were dead.

"So did the people in this room die..well before the others?" She asked, wondering if Oren was thinking about the same thing from what they had seen. "I only ask because-"

"Doesn't really matter now, they're dead and still unmoving" He said far to calmly, Ylva glanced around the room ass she stepped over some of the loose bones on the floor. Oren took his sword off from his back and raised it, catching the edge of the cage and causing it to swing a little, the skeleton inside shifting and dropping some limbs to the floor with a clatter. "Keep moving, staring at the dead things won't change anything" He said gruffly lowing his sword and looking between the two doors on the walls. He shifted his weight and pointed towards a door on the left. "I want you to go to that one, scout it out and signal your magelight to me if you find anything worthwhile."

The elf raised her hand to protest, but slowly lowered it at the stern look on her hire's face. With a reluctant nod she looked at the door and headed to it, pulling it open slowly and peering inside at the waiting darkness. Since her magelight was with Oren, she pulled the torch piece from her pack and cast her flame spell hoping it would catch easily. It did not and took a few tires before it finally flared to life, the hall welcoming her with the orange light. It almost felt weirdly welcoming in this lighting, the way the flames only moved gently and the shadows faded slowly rather than abruptly. Her footsteps padded down the stone path, the ceiling dropping small bits of debris here and there.

The lonesome feeling crept down her spine as she glanced back at the darkness that followed her from where she had come. These crypts always had a way of making one feel as if they were completely separate from the world, as if this place underground existed entirely elsewhere. Perhapse it was the way the walls seemed to eat up sounds in small areas like this, of the way that no natural light could be seen from within. Either way, this place could drive one to insanity especially on their own. The feeling was replaced with a bit of angry frustration though as she reached a gate, the chain mostly intact on the wall. Her gloved hand wrapped around the cold linked metal and pulled, the gate giving a groaning response as it heaved upwards, only to stop a third of the way up. Her frustration grew, Oren sent her off this way alone. She was no experienced fighter, more likely she end up dying to fear rather than a blow itself. Crouching she slid underneath the gate, the spikes that would have been in the ground caught slightly on the fur lined robes, tugging at them. Giving them a steady yank she felt the material tear and giveway, her body falling backwards down the stairs that had lead up to the gate. Not the most practical of building if she could say so herself, who wouldn't have put a platform on the other side of the gate and simply some stairs. Her thoughts on the architecture were cut short as she came to the bottom of the steps, the cold stone floor pressing against her face. Letting out a quiet huff she pushed her hands against the ground and shoved upwards, placing herself in a half sitting position. The torch laid a ways from her, the light of its flame was slowly flickering away.

"Skeever dung" she cursed scrambling towards the fading light source, her hand brushing the edge of the wood as the flame flickered out. The darkness filled the room hungrily the minute the invasive source was gone, a soft dripping came from elsewhere in the room, though it was hard to place with its echo. From that though Ylva's heart shriveled slightly in her chest, the echo meant that this room was large. How large, she couldn't quite tell, but it was bigger than the torture room they had been in previously. She dared not to move for a long moment, the inability to see..anything at all was horrifying. There was no faint glimmer of moonlight off the walls, no flickering of stars in the distance, not even the welcoming glow of a torch bug floating around in free space. There was only the ever feeding darkness that threatened to gnaw away at her fleeting sanity.

A whimpering sound escaped her lips as the heavy thud of something hit the ground, the reverberations traveled to her hands causing her to pull them back to herself. She ached to light up the room, her right hand shakily moving upwards as raspy breathing became more evident. Her hand opened and the flick of light, similar to that of striking a rock was produced. It was nothing, barely enough to light the room for a brief moment, just enough to confirm that there were tombs in the room, and one was now empty. The darkness brought her back to the nightmare as shuffling steps walked around the room, sounding as if they were pacing the whole perimeter at once. Only to be followed by a few more familiar thuds of the tombs covered hitting the ground, some louder than others but always followed by the sounds of decayed breathing and the sheen of the weapons being pulled from their ancient sheaths. Her own breathing was practically absent, her lungs were burning with the need for the stale air that sat in the room.

"The mountains claim those who venture to far.."

Her shaky voice finally returned as air slipped into her lungs, her hands closing tightly into fists, she mentally cured Oren again for sending her off down this hallway alone. She was useless currently, not enough magicka to signal, no weapons for an actual fight, her only ability was to sit and be the bard that she was. Not that it would really do much anyways besides speed up her death.

"Though their hidden tombs are the real teeth below.."

A quick death would be better than waiting for the creatures to circle until they found her, the quicker pace of the feet around her let her know they were now figuring out where their intruder was.

""For once inside, you become one with the dead"

Ylva bit down on her tongue, the sharp taste of metallic blood filling her taste buds as she sounds of the weapons got closer. She couldn't even tell anymore whether her eyes were open or shut, it all seemed the same to her. Was this what she would have to look forward to once her death was granted. Would she float in an open dark abyss, or would she join the creatures here and wander the halls forever, waiting for new warm flesh to enter.

The footsteps got closer as she stiffened up, her breaths stopping all together again and movement seemed to come from all around her.

Then the cold hands placed themselves around her face, the front over her eyes, as if it would stop her from seeing something as if she could. It was as if death itself had grabbed onto her, though she had felt no pain, heard no sound of metal through the air, experienced the feeling of her life slipping away. She couldn't tell if she was dead or not, until a low, raspy even toned voice cut through.

"Don't you move.."


	4. Chapter 4

Armor clacked against itself steadily as Oren strode down the empty hallways undeterred, large sword dragging just the tip against the ground with the sound of metal against stone. His long dark strands of hair had become unruly during the fall, falling from the tie it was held in and laying across his face. Dark amber eyes scanned each crack and crevice that he passed, the blue white light of the orb making the shadows sway as he walked. Silence was only broken by his movements, and the distant sound of dripping somewhere within the tomb.

If he could locate where the sound was coming from he might be able to find a way out from here. It was not a sure answer, but it was a better chance than waiting to see if an exit turned up. His path lead him into a room lined with books, or what was left of the books. His grip lessened on the hilt of the sword, eyes scanning the shelves warily.

Books sat neatly on the shelves as if they hadn't been moved in a long time, tough their neat manner was disturbed only by the thick black covering that sat on them. They all had the same dark coloration, which from afar looked as if they were simply black books lined on shelves. Oren approached a shelf and reached out to one, his fingers barely brushing it before it crumpled into ash where it had been. The books nearby, having been disrupted, crumbled as well leaving the shelf a now ash filled pile. He withdrew his hand and looked at the black stain from the book that now covered the tips of his fingers. He lowered his hand back to the hilt and looked around the room again, the shelves around him all seemed to offer the same promise of crumbling to ash if he touched them, though untouched everything felt perfect in this room. It was eerie and yet offered a sense of hollow peace, an empty room filled with silence and fragile surroundings.

A soft click broke the spell of the room, the sound of chains followed as the chandelier that hung over the room came crashing down against the floor. Within the moment that the light fixture made contact with the floor, Oren's blade was up and alert. The orb's light illuminated the dust that rose from the floor where the chandelier, the small flecks floating through the air for their brief time before they spiraled back down to return to their rest.

"Can't scare me away with falling apart" He grumbled out loud to the tomb itself, his eyes turning to the piece on the floor in front of him now. Approaching it he gave it a slight kick with the front of his boot, the fixture was made of heavy steel, no doubt he would have been dead if he had been caught under it.

He had run into some close encounters with crumbling ruins in the past, the idea of them collapsing while he was inside used to frighten him. To be trapped below the surface with no hope of rescue, it sounded like the worst way to go. If he was to be trapped underground, then he would do it fighting the creatures below or to be some sort of heroic figure in saving people. The light bobbed around the taller as he reached up to brush a few strands of the loose hair out of his face.

"No signal yet from her yet.." He grunted slightly and looked at the light as it floated downwards a little ways, the light illuminating feet a little ways from Oren. His hands readjusted onto his two handed blade, the silent movement of the creature was strange. The feet had looked like the same situation as the previously seen bodies, the winkled skin and protruding bones, draugr no doubt yet its movement should have been clumsy and accented by the raspy lungless breaths.

He didn't have to stall on his thoughts about the draugr as the enemy moved forward, blade coming down from above and just barely missing the nord. His own steel blade swung with a heavy movement for the creature's legs. In his experience draugr were frail and didn't take to much of a hit before crumpling down, there were stronger forms that he had seen, though this one's appearance from what he could make out was basic and barely armored. Blue eyes of the undead flickered as its weak bones snapped at the contact from the blade, its body crashing to the floor. Its hands dragged it forwards, grasping at the man's boots as its mouth creaked about uselessly, breaths coming out angered. Oren moved his foot and brought it down onto the undead's back, the simple weight of his boot was enough to hold it there without effort. Grasping still it's movements became twitchy as the weight began to increase, its spine slowly being crushed by the boot. Whether or not they still felt pain was unclear, its movements didn't seemed pained, rather just annoyed and angry, all its movement ceased though once the hollow sounding crack came from its back. The iron boot was removed from it as Oren shifted his position.

"At least undead don't stain your armor with blood" He said looking down at his boot and grinding the heel against the stone floor. His movements stilled though at the sound of steady clanks from somewhere up ahead. "Seems like I know where you came from now though"

The light floated ahead as the man passed the bookshelves, many of the books having disintegrated from the chandelier hitting the ground and creating a breeze. There was no more sense of peacefulness as the other moved towards the sound, eager to fight the waiting dead that sounded to be just up ahead.

Ylva could only do as the voice said, as if moving was an option how anyways, she was frozen where she sat. Her hands ached from how tightly she had been clenching them into fists, if not for the gloves her nails would have been digging in hard enough to draw blood. The cold grasp on her face was gone, though the feeling still lingered. It felt as if her face was tingling from the touch, the air felt heavy with energy. It was strange this far down, when a storm would come it was possible to feel the electricity crackle through the air with the lighting strikes, but obviously one should not be able to feel something like that this far down in the ground.

The creatures around her, draugr from what she could tell with their stumbling steps and occasional words in another language, were collapsing around her. The sounds of their bodies crashing to the ground and their weapons clattering across the floor with a skittering sound. Oren had found her was what she could figure, there could be no way that these draugr were simply dropping around her like flies. But how would he be able to fight in the condition, in a darkness that allowed for no sight, a tingle ran down her spine as she finally attempted to move despite being told not to. A sudden shock wracked her body, causing her to hunch back over, spikes felt as if they were stabbing at her insides. A rune most likely from what she could figure, she was not an experienced mage and so casting such a spell was beyond her. But she had heard what sort of damage they could do, the description she had read didn't even begin to compare to what it actually felt like.

Her magika spiked slightly from the sudden shock to her body, her fingers twitched urging her to do anything to get out of this experience. Magelight flickered somewhere in the tomb, her casting movement was sporadic and so her spell would cast haphazardly rather than smoothly. A weapon hit the ground and slid towards her, the final sound in the room before the silence slowly drifted back in.

Silence. How many had there been though, how could they exist and then simply drop around her. Her mind felt fried, her body more unwilling than ever to try and move from her place. The runes. Right, this room must have been littered with runes, the draugr could have activated them as they paced around her. It made more sense than anything else, something had killed them and it was the most logical answer.

Footsteps, heavy steps, the faintest bobbing of light showing up in a far corner of the room. Her eyes strained to make out the light across the room, the dark figure stepping in front of it. She couldn't have been in the dark for that long, but relief flooded her at the light of her orb and the sight of her hire. His shape moved down from where he was and across the floor. As he brought the light along the room became more clear, draugr scattered across the floor, tombs lined the walls and broken lids sat nearby. The floor was covered in various carvings and designs, some cracked and other stained with ancient blood. Oren's boot almost collided with Ylva's pack which had made it a reasonable distance from her, he reached to pick it up and continued his path till be found his way over to his hireling. The pack dropped in front of the hunched figure who carefully looked up at him.

"What in shor's name happened here" He asked folding his arms across his chest, he wasn't angry though his stern tone would have made anyone else think he was mad at the bard for whatever had happened. She reached out to grab her pack, hand still shaking like a leaf snagged in the wind, her blue and red potions being yanked out and drunk without another word. Her body slowly began to reclaim its clam, the tingles disappearing as she found her words. It felt like she was a child for her time in the darkness, as if she had lost all her ability to speak and was just now learning how to communicate.

"Dark..voices..draugr.." She raised a hand to her head and took in a small breath, gathering the scattered thoughts and trying again. "The draugr..were all around..then they..just weren't" Ylva said looking up at Oren who was nudging a draugr corpse nearby, he let out a simply grunt. The light had begun to fade a little bit, meaning Ylva needed to recast here soon as she raised her hand.

"That sounds unlikely" Oren responded as the light disappeared, only to be replaced a few moments later by another white orb over his shoulder. "Cast a few of the stationary lights around the room" He instructed as he began walking towards the other side of the room. The bard looked down at her pack and lifted it up, holding it over her shoulder while fishing another blue potion from its depths. It was like Oren forgot that she didn't have an unlimited supply of magicka at all times. She grasped the bottle in one hand and began to cast a few stationary orbs around the dark room, thankful that these ones didn't take a whole lot of magic to conjure up.

"The rooms shadows began to dissipate as it was filled with the small floating lights, some of the walls seemed to disappear higher up than her light would show. Oren looked up towards where one of the lights had placed itself, a platform a little higher up, the stairs that lead up to it seemed to be on either side. Ylva went after him, not planning on standing in the center of this room any longer. The stairs were smooth, though it looked as if they had been worn down this way rather than intentionally built as such. At the top of the platform sat an open coffin, larger than the tombs that the draugr had come from below. Offerings of gold and jars sat around the black carved stone tomb. The walls behind the resting place were covered with intricate carvings, usually the story of the person who was laid to rest in the tomb. It was done for those in a position of power and signified what they had done in order to deserve such a tribute to them. Ylva made her way over to the carvings behind the coffin and tilted her head slightly, black strands of hair fell to the side as she did so. Portions of the carving had been hacked away, with a weapon from the looks of it. Oren approached the coffin and leaned over to look inside, the empty stone interior begged the question of where a dead body had wandered off to.

"Welcome to my tomb dragonborn."


	5. Chapter 5

Oren's blade couldn't be grabbed fast enough from his back as he turned to face the voice. His hands almost slipped in his rush to grab onto the leather wrapped hilt of the weapon. Boots ground against the floor as he moved, his eyes working to focus on the figure in front of him, the orbs light bouncing off the dark blue colors of the figures robes. Straps surrounded the midsection of the figure, holding together the fabric of the clothing. Smaller bones and whittled white items hung strung to some of the straps, their sound a light tinkling when the figure moved.

"I wouldn't advise attacking" He said calmly, the raspy even tone voice had returned, he raised a skeletal hand up in a loose halt motion, the loose fabric of his sleeves falling down the arm a little way. His movement, though little, was followed by the soft tinkle of the bones on his waist. "I'd hate to have to clean up my guests from the floor"

Oren narrowed his eyes, hands flexing on his blade as he stared at the creature before him. It wasn't the first time skeletons had walked again, but speaking was a bit of a different experience. He normally could have attributed it to the acts of a necromancer, though it seemed highly unlikely that this would be the case this far into the mountains, and in what they assumed was an abandoned tomb. Tales did tell of creatures who walked due to their gods hands, the Nord was not one to possibly anger a god. He would keep his eye on the walking pile of bones though; his alert mannerism strong as he found his next words.

"What did you say before." Oren asked gruffly as he took a slight step back, his heel hitting the stone coffin behind him, he was not retreating, but attempting to get a better position if he needed to fight. The coffin would be problematic if the skeleton did decide to make a surprise attack, his mind was already working on his battle plan as he kept his eyes trained in front of him.

"Cleaning your bits up from the floor?" he raised a hand to his chin, bone meeting a silver colored mask with amethyst toned glowing eyes behind the eye holes. There was a momentary pause from the figure who shook his head briefly right after. A sarcastic 'ah-ha' made its way out as a dry snap of his fingers like he had figured it out. "No, the part about not choosing to be foolish and attack?"

"No, don't play dumb. You said something about a Dragonborn" Oren said hesitantly lowering his weapon just a touch below his shoulder to keep himself from tiring himself out by holding it above himself for longer than he needed to. Barely in a few sentences with this creature and he was already getting frustrated with the antics. It was clear the skeleton knew better than what he was playing at, the way he had approached in a calm manner definitely didn't originally reflect a sense of humor. The skeleton sighed and moved his hand from his chin before nodding.

"Oh yes, I didn't expect to be granted a visit from the Dragonborn" He said placing his hands together and taking a small step forward. The lights in the room wavered, their little spines of light dimming before brightening again. The shadows blending with the black tones of his bones, small white lines crossed his hands here and there, their appearance similar to that of veins. "It's an unexpected turn of events truly"

Oren's weapon came down now as he stood there, taken aback by what the undead in front of him was implying. He cleared his throat and shook his head, amber eyes filled with a confused disbelief. The skeleton came closer, his hand outstretching as his pointer finger came to rest on Oren's armor, over his heart. Oren's home village had celebrated the stories of dragonborn for years, they ate feasts for a figure that no longer walked the plains of Nirn. To have it suggested that he was the one who had been carrying the dragonblood this whole time, it seemed beyond comprehension.

"Ah, I may have spoken more than you know" he said with an amused broken chuckle in the back of his throat. "The confusion in your eyes speak volumes about your current mental state." Oren stared at the glowing purple eyes behind the mask before lifting a hand and shoving the undead's hand away. It was just tales, if he was such a warrior then he would have known sooner about his fate, or one of the mystics in their village would have been able to tell..at least he figured so. At the same time he felt pride swelling in the back of his mind, if it wasn't simply tales, well then Akatosh couldn't have chosen a better person. He was a solid warrior, unafraid to take battles head on, willing to do whatever it would take to achieve his goal. The fame it would bring him, the willing ladies to bed, the power he would have before him. His thoughts had begun to trail off, the flicker of the orbs lights again brining him back to the present, he couldn't let himself get carried away with such a fantasy.

"You're just talking about old Nord tales. Which make no sense, there are no dragons roaming the world outside" He said using his free hand to motion up towards what he could only assume was the ceiling at some point up in the darkness. The undead made a thoughtful hm as Oren's words before taking a slight step back. "There hasn't been a Dragonborn in millennia, not that the world needs them without dragons." His words were stern, but honestly hollow, the power a Dragon born could have even without dragons might still be quite powerful. Did simply having the dragon blood within your veins create a stronger individual?

"Well, that does make no sense, albeit I shall still offer my services to you, after all your entrance into my tomb was what allowed me to awaken" He said straightening up and placing his hands behind his back. His posture returned to that of a seasoned scholar, the hood of his robes never falling fully over the front of his mask, but rather sitting neatly on the edges of the silver mask. "The name is Vyron, conjurer of lighting and the arcane" Oren stared at Vyron, his weapon moving behind his back and settling back into the sheath that loosely carried it around the hilt.

"Oren. If you tag along, remember that I will not hesitate to kill you if you make one wrong move" The man said his tone becoming cold and stern, ignoring the fact that the glowing purple behind the mask was sending nervous chills down his spine. He was hesitant about brining this unexpected guest along on his travels, though part of him was more on edge about what might happen if he refused the offer. The whole air of the tomb now sat heavily with a pressure, the undead's presence creating an uncomfortable situation. He couldn't rule out the fact that this creature..Vyron might be able to get them out of this place. He hadn't given up, but if he could lessen the amount of time that he would be trapped down here, he would gladly take it. The words had put him in a place that confused him, he made a note to head right back to Markarth after they left the tomb, someone there would be able to validate the skeletons words, at least he hoped.

Ylva slowly scooted herself back up the wall, having slid down during the confrontation between the two men. Her hands pressed against the broken stone carving as she straightened up, silver toned eyes dancing between her hire and the newcomer. Her skin tingled as she swallowed a lump in the back of her throat.

"Oren..we need to get moving, I'm running low on magic and potions.." she managed, her hire turning his head to look at her before grunting and waving for her to move them. Ylva headed over to Oren, readjusting her pack against her back, the thick furs of her robes were starting to get warm from fear and the amount of orbs she had placed around the space. Her gaze stayed on the floor as Oren looked at Vyron, the dark figure still keeping his slight distant between them. Ylva could see his robes were torn near the bottom, otherwise the fabric seeming to have kept pretty well over the years. The mask lifted with his face as he waited for Oren's words.

"This is your tomb correct, you must know the way out" he said addressing the skeleton who gave a swift nod and motioned out a hand. Oren was the leader now having accepted Vyron's offer to assist him, he would do as the other requested and fulfill his duties to the best of his abilities.

"but of course, tombs were always built with efficient escape routes in time of danger. Sometimes they were too well hidden though" He said walking over to the carved story wall and searching the panel, the boney hands came to rest of a slightly indented portion that he pushed in. A low groan of rock on rock came from the panel as it steadily moved aside. The hall behind the stone was small and as dark as the rest of the place had been, though Vyron headed right in without another word, a soft glow coming from where he walked, most likely a mages spell effect for easier lighting. Oren looked at the tunnel and shook his head before following after he undead figure ahead of him, following the small bit of light from the other. One hand pressed against the wall as he walked, keeping himself from falling over surprise rocks and possible tripping hazards. Grit covered his hand, the stones texture becoming softer as it faded into a cold dirt hole. The smell of earth filled his nose as the footsteps became lighter against the earthen ground, the creaking of the bones ahead of them was steady and constant, barely echoing anymore in the small space.

Vyron stopped at a large stone that sealed the end of then tunnel, the years untouched had left the cracks between the stone and the entrance to fill up with debris from the ever shifting world. The black boned hand reached up to the crack and ran a finger along it, knocking some of the dirt onto the floor. Oren stood behind him, only able to make out a portion of what was going on ahead of him. The soft metallic rattle came from his right as the skeleton grabbed ahold of the smooth metal ring and pulled swiftly. Stone lurched, the dirt that remained in the space was crumbled and sent tumbling to the floor as the door disappeared slowly into the crevice it sat above. Light began to leak in through the cracks that had opened up, Oren raised a hand to shield his eyes from the blinding day. The dirt tunnel was still small, but a bit less cramped feeling now that they could see the walls of the area and the way out ahead of them.

The stone came to a stop almost all the way gone, though it seemed to be wedged part way, dirt and debris had piled up over the years into the space below the stone. Vyron looked down at the rough rock that sat sticking part way out of the floor, bending his figure he stepped through the space that was open, and out into the snow.

"Come along then, simply bend over it isn't that difficult" He said giving his hand a small wave to the others who were still tucked in the small space. Oren grunted at the tone as he leaned over, the pommel of his sword still scraping the ceiling of the tunnel and knocking dirt down the back of his armor. Not much could be done though as he climbed through the space, straightening up once he was in the open air again. Muttering came from him as he shifted his shoulders around, failing at trying to achieve whatever it was with the dirt. Ylva had a much simpler time getting through the space, her small frame barely needing to tuck in as much as the males had. The bright daylight caused the snow below their feet to sparkly, the storm cracking off in the far distance over another mountain now. Ylva looked towards where it was and let out a soft breath of relief.

"At least we won't have to be dealing with that issues for a while" the elf looked over her robes, taking a gloved hand and brushing bits of earth off of her clothing. The brown flecks speckled the pure white ground as she cleaned up, her lute thumping softly against her pack as she moved around. She was more than glad to be out of that space, normally she had no problems traversing the tombs and caves with her hire, but those were times when she had been able to stock up sufficiently for a trip like that. She thanks the gods silently for their luck in getting out of the darkness of the tomb without any major injuries. Her ribs almost made her take the last part back, but she wasn't dying from the pain in her ribs so she would call this one a victory.


	6. Chapter 6

"I'll take this rack of ribs here" A man said motioning to a hanging slab of meat, the hook stained with the dark blotches from previous animals blood. The butchers hands reached up to the choice cut and lifted it from its hook, the metal sliding back through it was a satisfying noise followed by the weighted thump of the meat onto the wrapping paper. Crinkling filled the stand as the gloved hands of the butcher worked the paper around the rack of ribs, the lingering blood leaking from the cut and sliding off the paper and onto the worn wooden counter that was covered with old cleaver marks. The red liquid filled the older marks, following them down the grain of the wood and to the counter before sliding off the counter top and onto the street stones below. It met with water, the red swirling briefly on top of the waters surface, its colors distinct from the clear fluid before blending and diluting until only the water remained.

The waters journey was interrupted briefly by a child's feet slamming into its surface, droplets littered the surrounding ground as well as wetting the edges of the young ones pants. It was only a small disruption, the water carried on its path around the intruders feet that now sat within itself. The child squealed in delight at the water, hands reaching down and smacking at the small creek that ran though the market of the city. A passerby scowled at the splattering of water onto their clothing, their attention turning to scold the small child in the creek. Their confrontation was halted as the child's father laid down his position between his daughter and the passerby, after all it was merely water and nothing to be upset about. The passerby grunted in response, reluctant to start an altercation over this situation now. He turned on his heels and stalked away, the spots where the water had splattered on his white shirt were already beginning to dry, the faintest hint of dried crimson reminding one of the truth that laid in their cities.

Blood and silver ran this place, and far to often would blood run in their waters.

Oren stopped and looked at the approaching walls of the stone city, the mountains hunching slightly over the city like a protective parent. Light glimmers came from the copper sections that laid in the stone walls, the sun catching slightly, but not enough to be glaringly obnoxious. The city was more than safe in case of battle, at least as long as the enemies could be kept out, if they were to break the main gates the city would practically be cornered. It was a risk most seemed to take though, believing in the stone walls to keep all harm out. After all the quaking earth seemed not to touch it, their homes would not burn to the ground, water posed no harm to the solid structures, it was a haven as long as the danger stayed outside.

The male walked the stone path, following the winding way it moved up towards the entrance to the city. The pommel of his sword moved with his walking, the height of it reaching just over his head, the wolves face carved into the design had its maw open wide screaming for battle. He had first gotten the weapon here, or more so he had gotten it fixed up. He had found it within a ruins not far from her, its blade worn and dull, yet it had been the only thing that had gotten him through in the end. So in turn he had brought the blade to the closest city, Markarth, in hopes someone would be able to fix the weapon up. They were able for the right price of course, the blade did not stay dull, its face was shined and it's edges were ground until the blade could almost cut through a training dummy with a single slice. It had not failed him since then, some claimed that a weapon and its master could form a bond, as long as they took good care of each other. Of course others said this was a silly notion, an inanimate object like a weapon would hold no such ability, it was luck that the blade had held out without failure, or simply it was a expertly craft blade that was meant to last a millennia. Oren hadn't thrown his hat into either ring, he took good care of his weapon and knew for certain that he and the blade were the ones who cut down the enemies, regardless of what forces might have been around.

The blade clunked against his armor, his attention lifting from the path and up towards the large doors a ways ahead still. Ylva stopped walking and reached to her pack, sliding the grey toned strap off her left shoulder and letting the bag drop to the ground behind her. Her hire turned his head briefly to the sound, his brow raised in question. It was strange for his expressions to show through clearly, his helm had always obscured most of his facial expressions, leaving Ylva to typically have to listen to his voice to figure out the situation

"What are you doing?" he finally asked, his arms folding over his chest as he turned his body, back to the walls of the city. She opened the top of the bag and pushed the empty potion bottles aside with gentle clinking, digging around inside till she found some things near the bottom and pulling them out. Black gloves were grasped between her fingers, the craftsmanship on them looking quite nice.

"well I figured the city might not be keen on walking skeletons.. or the possibility of us being unwanted necromancers" she started looking down at the gloves in her hands and then back to Oren, the fabric felt soft, but sturdy in her hands. They were not the type of gloves that one would usually had along for travel in adventure circumstances, they would have been seen more often worn by the nobles in Solitude, of by people of title. They would have cost a good number of coin at the least to get her hands on them. She turned to the newest companion and looked up at him, her hand still grasping the gloves as she extended them out to him. "The rest of you is covered fine, but these should fix the part that's missing."

Vyron's purple gaze flicked down to the gloves briefly, his hands moving in response to her offer. Though he would not have cared about the judgment as to him being a skeleton, it could be problematic if it halted their journey as Ylva had hinted around. He took the gloves, Ylva's hand releasing before he had even grabbed a hold of them, causing a brief drop in the air. The black gloves would blend perfectly with his current state of outfit, the fabric slid over the bones the indents from some sections more apparent than others, but not enough to be noticed without being up close. Vyron moved his hand, fingers closing tightly to his palm before releasing.

"Feels like I have skin again, oddly more restricting than I remember. Does having a structure covered in skin feel as cramped is I'm imagining it does?" the skeleton asked his mask showing nothing, but his tone sounding oddly amused at the prospect. Oren gave him a silent stare, his face looking quite the opposite, unamused with the strange quip. "I will take that as a no and that you enjoy your skin prisons, well on we go then" Vyron said waving a now gloved hand at the leader of their party, his scholarly attitude still gave an air of professionalism even when he was being strangely humorous.

Resuming his trek up to the doors, Vyron fell in step behind him with Ylva bringing up the rear. The guards stood silently from the positions near the door, their darkened metal helms watching the approaching visitors. Their swords hung at their side, the sheaths tapping slightly against the wall behind them as the wind knocked into them just enough to move the weapons holders just a touch. Oren barely cast a look a them as he approached the door, hand stretching out to the handle of the door and pushing it. The low hum of the door moving open vibrated through the ground under the groups feet, the guards seemed hardly phased, used to the traffic that passed through the city on a regular basis.

Chatter from the market drifted out from the moment the door was opened, the light tinkle of jewelry being moved around, banter from customers vying to get the best price for the good, a butcher scolding a nearby mutt for stealing for of his meats. Vyron silently observed the city as they walked past a few of the stalls, one of the merchants looked up expression scrunching up into a bit of confused distaste. Ylva already knew where Oren would be heading as she stepped off to the side to speak to a woman working a stall. She had made a promise to her trusted lute and she planned on taking care of the errands this time before Oren could bustle them out of the city.

"Do you have any dyes in? For lute wood" she said moving her shoulder as her pack shifted slightly, her lute thinking lightly in response. The instruments wood was not like the kind that would be used to build a home or carts, that wood was raw and rough with too many knots in its grain. Her instrument along with others she had seen, were made with a soft delicately grained wood, formed carefully to shape with as little impurities as possible in its structure to lessen the chances of cracking.

"Yes, I do actually. Were you looking for certain shades?" The woman asked, blonde hair framing her face where strands of it fell on either side of her cheek while the rest was held up in a bun. Her hands rested on the counter as she waited for an answer, the chatter of the crowd dying down briefly only to pick back up again.

"goldens, red, and blues if you have them" Ylva responded with a calm polite tone, she did not consider herself a great adventurer by any means, but she liked to think she had better people skills than her hire, even if he wouldn't believe that social skills were really that important. The merchant moved her hands off the stall and took a step back from the counter, eyeing the shelves behind the stall. Bending her figure she retrieved the colors, setting them up onto the counter with gentle clacks of glass on wood. Ylva smiled, relieved to see she wouldn't have to try and find any of the colors in a different city.

"Why not simply buy a new lute" the raspy low voice asked from behind Ylva, her body stiffened as she reached to her small pouch on her hip to grab the gold. The undead presence seemed invisible until he made himself known, when he did it sent a cold shiver down the elf's back. She felt the question was silly in itself and so she didn't answer, simply handing over the gold coins to the merchant. The merchant thanked her for the business before turning to rearrange some of her stock. Ylva reached up with a hand to pull down the strap of her bag so she could place the paints into her bag, her movement was stopped by a black gloved hand. Her breath stopped, out of annoyance mostly, she didn't have time to dilly dally in case they had limited time here. "It's not polite to ignore a question"

"The answer wouldn't quite affect you either way so I figured it didn't matter" She said moving her hand to brushing the others away so she could continue with putting the dyes away. The bag lowered to the ground behind her once the strap was off, her hand now holding onto the glass jars of paints. Her eyes moved down to the grey fabric travel pack, the absence of something catching her attention. She had heard it moving against her bag not to long ago, right before she had bought the paints, her grip tightened on the glass jars as she quickly jammed them down into the bag and stood up abruptly. Ylva was soft spoken in the norm, reserved for the most part, but her expression was none to pleased as she stood looking at the skeleton handling her lute. She didn't have problem when someone looked at it, and they could hold it as well, but they typically asked before doing so. She was more frustrated at the fact he had simply taking from her pack with asking or ever saying anything, especially after just saying she should get a new one.

"Please return my lute" Ylva said placing her hand up towards the other, waiting for the instrument to be placed in her waiting hand. Seconds ticked by as Vyron kept his grip on the instrument, glancing down at her and shaking his head.

"It's a useless item, it serves no useful purpose in defense at all. Unless perhaps you were to swing it at an enemy.." He said lowering it and giving it a side eye through the eye holes of his mask. Ylva felt the hairs on her body bristle slightly, the undead idiot was suggesting she swing her lute at enemies, how dare he.

"What if I take your arm and swing it at an enemy" She responded reaching up and snatching the lute from his grasp, the string twanging slightly as they were pulled in the grasp. The frustrated elf walked off towards the market stall lined with various alchemy ingredients, her bag still sitting down by Vyron's feet. There was a brief but silent return as the elf realize she had left her bag behind, grabbing it and shuffling back away without a word to the skeleton. The woman behind the counter of the stall that she had bought the paint from was simply staring at Vyron. He couldn't quite blink as he looked at her and then back at the elf halfway across the market now, he took a second to compose himself before giving her a polite farewell motion with his hand and striding off. 


	7. Chapter 7

The sharp gritting of a grindstone filled the air, sparks flying off the metal and disappearing into the air. The imperial sat at the stone, one hand on the swords hilt, and the other hand covered in a thick leather glove to hold onto the end of the blade while he worked. Oren stood off to the side, back pressed against a tall wooden beam that held up the structure's roof. Churning water passed under the outdoor shop's stone floor, the water wheel turning as it generated heat for the nearby forges fires. The smith had already told the Nord that he could go about his business and return in a few hours for his blade, though Oren's stubborn nature kept him standing to watch over his treasured weapon. His large fingers rapped against the sides of his bracers, the metal looking like it could use a polish as well, and possibly some touch ups from the incident in the tomb. The metal was still littered with dents and scratches from the fall, the warrior was not one to be ashamed that his armor was dented after all it usually meant it had seen adventure, but he didn't wish to strain the material to much to the point it would be useless next fight.

With a grunt he leaned forward off the pole and moved his arm, unstrapping the small steel clasps that held the leather straps. The armor came off as he set it in a pile on the worktable, followed by more gold now for the rest of his set to be done as well. His stubborn nature waned slightly now, he would stand around for his blade, though now that along with the armor would take most of the day if not all of it. His hand rubbed at the back of his neck, dirt and grit still lingering on his skin from the trip.

"I'm leaving my armor and the blade for you, I expect them to be here tomorrow when I return for them" he said gruffly, not waiting for an answer from the imperial as he turned and headed down the stone steps. The chatter from the market was muffled from this side of the city, the large stone outcrop in the center obscuring a direct path right through. He followed the path on the right, casting a lazy glance towards the miners below who were shoveling large amounts of coal and ore into the smelter, he didn't envy their work one bit. It always felt like a step into this city was a risk, as if you might be scooped up at any moment and named the new miner. Everyone knew that it could be done if certain people wanted, no one would ask about your whereabouts once they were given a sack of gold or the threat of death. Oren turned his attention back ahead, reaching up to tuck his hair behind his ear, he would get an inn room for the night and see about washing up. He was surprised that after the few days between the tomb and the city that the grit hadn't embedded itself into his skin permanently.

Vyron caught sight of the returning group leader and turned to face him, hands behind his back again as he stood there, a few passersbys casting glances at the fascinating visitors. The skeleton did take a moment to reassess the man now that the armor was gone. The nord seemed the typical build for such a race, large in frame for brute strength. Long dark hair wasn't that out of place either, many races seemed to favor long hair, whether it was a preference for Oren or he simply didn't want to bother with cutting it, the skeleton didn't know. It was clear that he had followed the path of a warrior, though Vyron had already figured as much from the moment the pair came into the tomb. He actually was just now realizing he hadn't made a real observation about either of the people he was traveling with now, he scolded himself, years in the tomb made one tend to lose habits at times. Oren approached him, arms crossing over the commoner clothes he wore under his armor, the dark green shirt tucked into a pair of worn loose fitting brown pants synched up with a belt.

"Gonna stay here the night, need to get the armor and weaponry repaired. I'm going to get a room at the inn here, but.. I don't exactly know, do you sleep? Or just stand there" he said slowly looking at the undead, seeing as how he had no eyelids he figured that sleeping might have been out of the question, but he could have been completely wrong. Vyron gave a small shrug, the usual tinkling coming from his trinkets around his waist.

"You and the girl can feel free to sleep, I shall occupy myself" he said moving a hand from behind his back and motioning over to Ylva who was making it a point to stay as far across the market from him as possible. He truly though she was acting like a skeever who was just robbed of her precious garbage, but he wasn't about to say that. Oren looked over towards Ylva, not picking up that anything was odd, before looking back to the slim figure in front of him.

"Tell her she can get a room then if she wants" Oren replied, looking towards the stone walls that hung with mounted signs. The ones across the way were for traders and butchers, his head tipped back a bit, the sign swining above him making him sigh in slight embarrassment. His body turned as he walked to the doors that looked like a smaller replica of the ones that guarded the city's main walls. Vyron glanced over his shoulder, watching the man disappear into the doors that opened briefly to the sound of drunken laughter and banter. He looked back across the market and scowled to himself under his mask, he felt like a babysitter as he walked over to the small woman. She shivered this time before he even got right up behind her, her hands dropping the gold onto the counter before shoving the potions into her sack and tightening the flap. The bag lifted, the strap being yanked back up onto her shoulder as she turned, walking away from the stall.

"Where are you going?" The skeleton asked, hands placed behind his back again as he followed after her casually. She gave a soft huff in response, the fur of her robes blowing gently as she walked under a stone bridge. "That's not a place, or if it is I've never heard of it" He stated, his calm tone made Ylva want to huff again, but she held it back.

"I was going to go find Oren so we could move on" She said stopping and looking at the steps in front of her that looped in front of the keep and towards the sound of hammering and grinding.

"Ah well, he won't be that way dear, he's at the inn" He said motioning back with his head, dark blue robes shifting slightly with his movements. Ylva bit back on her tongue as she turned to look at the taller figure.

"Is he getting a drink there? Or is he planning on staying here tonight?" her gaze glanced behind Vyron towards the hanging sign for the inn, a few patrons chuckling as they headed inside the stone building.

"Staying, that means you will be as well dear" his tone almost held a smirk to it that his posture contradicted, the elf narrowed her eyes slowly and shifted her weight to one side calmly.

"I'm not going to just wander out into the world on my own, I know the details of my contract well. He will sleep here fine, I'll wait out here for him" She said looking around at the stone walls and the small creek that ran through towards the market place. The market place chatter had begun to die away as the shadows of the wall cast longer over the city, the sun fading away off in the distance. The undead took a look to the sky then back to the female.

"Would it not be wise to go sleep at the inn as well." The tone was more stating a simple fact than anything else this time.

"It would be, but that's if you have the coin to be wise" She said raising a finger, the string of he coin purse hanging around it. Though it hung on her finger, it was easy to see that the fabric held little weight to it. "So I'll wait out here for my hire" Ylva said turning and catching sight of another set of stairs and heading for it, her boots tapping lightly as she headed up them towards the second level of the city. A guard passed by her as she reached the second level, stone bridges stretched from the side she was on over towards the stone outcrop in the center. The lower part of the city still visible between the bridges as she walked over and took a seat on one of the stone railings. She had the night to keep occupied as she opened her bag and pulled out the paint jars and set them out on the ledge along side her.


	8. Chapter 8

Hey Guys, sorry about the couple week delay. Holidays were busy and I forgot to get my message up for the brief hiatus. I'm back though and i'm hoping to be back on regular schedule again!

.

.

.

* * *

Careful brush strokes crossed the wood surface of the lute, golden liquid sliding off the bristles of the crudely made tool. Light shadows moved across the dark city, small lanterns sat embedded in rocky crevices and hung from a few posts that extended out. The elf's hand would stop moving every so often when the shadows would make it to dark to see, only resuming one the light was back on her work. The lines weren't the smoothest, any professionally decorated lute would have been done in a shop, held down on a table with no movement, the artist using practically a single hair brush to assure perfection in their line work. But for sitting on a wall and painting by hand, it wasn't as bad as it could have been, Ylva didn't mind it either since she wasn't trying to present it to someone to sell. It was her own instrument so as long as it was to her liking, then that's what she wanted.

She lowered the brush to the stone, freeing her hands to lift up the instrument and look at it. The wet paint shimmered in the lantern light of the city, the gold dripping just a tiny bit in some places near the bottom of it. She lowered it back into her lap, eyes training on the worn stones of the bridge, examining the tiny plants that grew between the cracks as her mind traveled.

* * *

 _"I thought you said we wouldn't have to worry about the storm" Oren grumbled from ahead of Ylva, his hand up to shield some of the weather from his face. The storm had come back over the mountains, fiercer than before as it brought sharp winds and light hail. The elf ducked her head to the flakes that hit her face, the storm had seemed so much farther away, they shouldn't have come back towards them._

 _"That's because I didn't think we would have to" She tried to tell him over the sounds of the angry sky. Branches creaked and bent above them, the strong pines only willing to take so much. Her silver gaze move from the snow under her feet to the trees, warily keeping an eye on them. They hadn't been freed from the tomb that long ago, she didn't wish to get trapped under a tree or simply be crushed to death by one._

 _The mountain side down had no clear cut trail down it, though that was unsurprising to those who scaled the mountain areas. Most places this far up rarely had a path marker, or if it did it was buried with the snow. The smooth white ground made it difficult to differentiate which parts were lower than others, Oren had taken a stick into one hand and was using it ahead of himself to get a better judgment of what sections dropped down. Ylva tried to stay behind in his tracks, walking carefully in the footsteps he had left behind, also partially using him as a shield for wind at times._

 _Oren's trail took them down the mountain slowly, the sight of life down below seemed so far away still, but it was better than nothing. Cliff edges appeared on their right side pushing them closer to the rock face on their left. Ylva placed a hand against the cold black stone, using it as her guide to keep her steady as she followed the man. The bard stepped forward into the next print in the snow, light fur boots meeting the smooth mountain rock beneath it. Unlike Oren's boot which had sharper metal portions near the toe and heel, hers lacked most any grip against smooth surfaces. He boot met the rock only temporarily before going right back into the air. Her body sliding to the right followed by a thought of_

 ** _Guess I'll beat the others to the bottom_**

 _One could only hope the snow would be thick enough to provide a soft rolling fall for most of the way down. Once past the snow and into the rocky grass ground below, then there wasn't much hope, but if she could slow down before she was out of the snow maybe it would be okay._

 _Vyron's hand wrapped around her wrist, the skeletal fingers almost as cold as the current storm, was this was death's grasp actually felt like. The undead pulled her back towards the wall, his other hand having grasped onto the stone wall._

 ** _How in the name of Shor did was he gripping such a slick surface for anchoring like that_**

 _She stare for a long moment, heart still feeling like it might collapse from almost tumbling off a cliff, until Vyron let go of her wrist. Oren stopped and turned around briefly oblivious to the bard almost having cascaded off the mountainside. Though it may have been due to the loud storm obstructing most interaction if you weren't right next to the other person. Ylva blinked again before clearing her throat and muttering a soft thanks before turning to continue down the mountain, feeling as if she was being babysat the rest of the way down._

* * *

She looked at the lute to see if it had dried at least a bit, the colors hadn't run together so that was a good sign as she tucked her legs up onto the bridges wall./p

"You're a bard not an adventurer, why do you continue out in the world?" Vyron asked having placed himself on the wall right next to her. She tensed up quickly almost biting her tongue.

"Gods- you're still here" She raised her hand up to her face and took in a slow breath "That was rude of me..I mean I expected you to have joined Oren at the inn" She explained watching a few stray people below. She may have been mad at him for his behavior in the market and his stubborn view on things, but twice already he had saved her life and she didn't want to seem ungrateful for that.

"Did I mention I don't really sleep? Or was that to Oren..did I even actually say that out loud.." he mused into the air, rubbing a hand against his chin under his mask. He shook his head, lowering his hand back down to his lap "Well now I've mentioned it, so yes I am here because sleep is rather boring especially when it's what you've been doing the last few hundred years against your will"

"Ylva watched a man leave the inn and stumble through the small creek and curse drunkenly. She glanced out of the corner of her eye at the skeleton, cracking the smallest amused smiled before forcing it back down. "That's a point I can't find any flaw with" she responded adjusting herself to face the other, her hands still tucked into her lap.

"Back to my previous inquiry though, what's the point of..you" He said motioning out the black gloved hand, the faintest outline of the bones visible with the movement.

"I'm a bard, you said it yourself. I should be at the college listening to older people telling me how my lute isn't good enough or how my stories don't have enough interest to be used" she placed her hands on the edges of her boots, fingers pulling at the fur lined coverings. "But that feels drab, I don't want to recite the same stories that everyone else does. It's a tired old time to sit in an inn and know you might hear about Ragnar the red's stupid head rolling away for the 80th time in a week"

Vyron raised a brow under his mask at the resentment in her tone, it wasn't up front, but more smothered like she was trying to keep the bitter tone out of her voice.

"So you decided to follow an adventurer to gain some stories for yourself?" he said calmly reaching up to pull the edge of his dark blue robe back into place. The purple gaze watched the smaller elf who chewed on her lip before nodding.

"Exactly, though I'm not entirely worthless..I know enough useful spells to be a basic mage for Oren" She murmured, looking down at her boots.

"Ah yes, I did see your little magic spells around the tomb" He said letting go of the edge of the robe and waving his hand in a small circle. "They weren't bad, sturdy and well formed, but it was clearly obvious you were casting on a life or death mentality. That's why you depleted your magic so quickly"

Ylva raised her head, scrunching her brow briefly at the others insight into her magic. "That's strange..to just..I mean how could you.." she bit her tounge, she really needed to stop doing that, if she kept it up the habit would end up taking her tounge.

"Undead darling, walking talking skeleton, I have access to quite a bit of knowledge" he said with a chuckle as he reached the gloved hands forward and covered her eyes causing her to flinch a little. Confusion filled her as her gaze was met with the dark of the gloves. "Don't get so flustered though little elf, I could almost feel your heart explode in the tomb in the dark..you're not in danger this time though, so what's got your pulse racing."


End file.
